41

Words Are Hard

Isearch frantically for pins to secure some loose strands of my hair. My hands shake in anticipation of the ball tonight. I had hoped it would be excited nerves, but it is only dread.

Dorit arrived to help me about an hour ago, and I almost broke down. Even now, as she helps with my hairstyle, I still can't seem to gather myself.

Dorit takes my hand. "There is no need to be nervous," she says, rubbing my hand.

I shrink inwardly, trying to keep my distress at bay.

Jerrick greeted me this morning with that damned dimple of his, and instead of telling him everything right then, I ran in the opposite direction.

I don't know how to even tell him everything I discovered the other night. Plus, he is going to arrive here any minute to escort me, and my hair isn't ready.

Dorit pins small plaits to the back of my scalp, pulling most of my face-framing strands away while still leaving some space for my crown to rest on my head.

I distract my thoughts and focus on lining my eyes with smashed kohl. I don't want it heavy but enough to make my eyes stand out more than normal.

Deities, I wish Betina was here to help me.

When I finish, a long breath of air escapes at the success of not looking like a forest creature. A miracle from the Makers themselves.

Dorit's excitement is visible in the reflection. "Are you ready to change?" she calls back as she takes a box from a staff member at the door.

Dorit places the box on the bed and my stomach flips. I recognize the packaging from his grandmother's shop, and as Dorit removes the lining, we both gasp.

A magnificent, tight-bodiced gown is surrounded by its full skirt. I run my hands over the smooth fabric, marveling at the intricate designs, unable to fathom the amount of time Jerrick's grandmother put into this.

Black and red are woven and sewn together, sheer fabrics layered over one another.

I take the dress out of the box, and my heart lifts at the ruffled layers of the skirt, a thigh-high slit on one side, and off-the-shoulder sleeves dripping with delicate gold chains.

My lip quivers as I clutch the gown to my chest at the realization.

Jerrick had this made so long ago. Back when we first discussed the festivities and he suggested black, while I suggested red, and Jonas, gold.

If my mouth could fall to the floor at this moment, I am sure it would have.

Dorit's brows furrow. "Tove, you're crying," she says, taking the gown and placing it on the bed.

She helps dry my damp cheeks, but I can't stop the emotions.

This is too much.

The unbearable feeling strikes my heart. I cover my mouth and sob harder at the magnitude of Jerrick's quiet, observing thoughtfulness. Everything Jerrick has done and still does drives my shame deeper. I am truly undeserving of such kindness.

Dorit's arms wrap around me, and even that makes me feel awful.

"This is too much, Dorit. I don't deserve anything," I sob as guilt takes over.

"Oh," she murmurs into my ear, hugging me tighter.

Clutching Dorit tightly, I try to brave through my weakness and push on past the storm of talking to Niko and Jerrick. I haven't done anything helpful for Jerrick, and he goes and does this selfless thing for me.

I hate how he snuck up on me.

Every glance, smirk, retort, and touch thawed my heart into caring about him and understanding him. He isn't even in the room with me, and my heart is soaring, trying to reason my feelings.

Why is he affecting me so much?

"Jerrick has done terrible things, yet here he is, doing kind things for me? I don't understand it," I mutter.

"He has saved my life twice and has helped me with my magic while my mother has cursed his family line. He has been stuck with his enemy, trying to break a curse he doesn't even deserve to have. I can't tell if he is using me for some greater purpose. Does he feel bad for me? Is he just being kind to me? I don't know."

I groan in frustration as guilt eats away at me.

He never deserved any of this to happen to him. And it's my mother's fault.

I hug Dorit tighter. Another person who has been kind to me, while I've been sneaking around and biding my time, while Niko plans to attack her home, all so I can return to my kingdom.

Someone else I don't deserve.

Dorit pulls away and holds my sides. "He does these things for you, Tove, because he cares about you."

Shame strikes through me, sinking deep into my bones and permanently joining itself with the gloom and sorrow I always carry.

"He shouldn't care," I tell her.

She rubs my sides as if to reassure me, but everything in me wants to deny her statement. I can't even consider the thought because feelings make everything messier.

A cough comes from beyond my bedchamber, and our heads whip to the door. We both look at each other as mortification sets in.

Fuck.

I mouth, It's Jerrick!

I freeze in place as Dorit tilts her head to the door.

"Her Majesty is using the bathing chamber and still needs to get dressed. Come back in a few minutes!" she hollers.

"I'll wait for my wife out here."

Jerrick's low response is rich and makes my stomach somersault.

I bite the inside of my cheek as my grip on Dorit tightens.

She whispers softly, "It's going to be okay. Let's fix your liner, and we'll get the dress on quickly."

She nudges me to the vanity and sits me down. Dorit goes into the bathing chamber and returns with a damp cloth to rub over my eyes and clean up the kohl.

I tremble with worry of everything happening tonight and reach for her hand, forcing her to stop her actions. "Dorit."

She halts her movements, glancing to my hold on her arm before meeting my gaze with understanding.

Magic flares awake within my core, sensing the fear and danger I am bringing upon myself. I release her immediately, my power cascading my arms in rapid succession.

Breathe, Tove.

Just relax.

The success of this ball tonight is extremely important, as is talking to Niko and Jerrick. Sweet Makers, how do I keep ending up in this position where everything relies on my ability to throw a good party while I struggle to remain calm?

Everyone from both kingdoms was invited, meaning noblemen and citizens that view me as a monster will murmur my nickname.

And Niko is supposed to be here. How will I face him?

Deities, Jerrick is in the hall waiting for me, and fuck if that doesn't make me even more sick to my stomach.

What if there is another duel between them right in the middle of the ball?

What am I going to do if someone calls me Snow Queen?

Fuck.

I close my eyes and grip the vanity, attempting to calm the swirl of emotions. I focus on my breathing, focus on my training, balancing my emotions at least to a point where I can keep my own magic from using them against me. I struggle to find graceful words for myself, the process longer than normal for me.

But the frost mercifully disintegrates from my veins, and when I look to Dorit, she is smiling.

Tears line my eyes at her confidence in me and her close presence when my magic manifested. I blink the tears away quickly, allowing her to proceed.

Dorit resumes putting kohl over my eyes as if she has no care in the world.

One thought sinks my heart, refusing to leave my brain. "What will everyone think?"

"What everyone thinks doesn't matter. You are a queen in your own right, and you are married to a king. They are here to celebrate you. They will be wise not to challenge you or Jerrick," she says.

"And if they do?" I panic, not wanting to wear indifference around people anymore.

I want to be myself and find my happy. I don't want to be this Snow Queen, and I don't want there to be a battle.

"Then, I will step in and knock them down a few pegs." Dorit smiles brightly, resting her hands on my upper arms. "Now, let's get that dress on you."

Dorit pulls out the dress, and I try not to admire it more, or else I might cry again.

I close my eyes and avoid the mirror over my vanity as Dorit laces up the back of the gown.

"Now for the best part." She retrieves my mask and my crown.

The crown is different from the one I wore on my wedding day and coronation. This one is simple and sleek, black metal adorned with small rubies coordinated to complement the rest of my ensemble.

Dorit places the crown on my head and secures it with pins and finishes with draping the mask over my face. "Tove, you are a vision!" She claps and lowers to a curtsy.

I grab her by the arm, hoisting her up as her arms fly around me. "Dorit, you're going to make me cry again," I try to joke as tears line my eyes.

Stupid tears.

"Tove, it truly is an honor to serve you. Your friendship has been momentous. I'm so glad you gave me a chance," she mutters into my ear.

We break apart, and I grab her hand, squeezing it tight. "You are a friend I never knew I needed."

Her features squish together, and it is her turn to cry. I cradle her again in my arms as a sense of pride and love courses through me, and I wish it was Dorit and me taking on the world.

Remembering Jerrick on the other side of my bedchambers, I harness my strength before ending the embrace.

Dorit asks, "Are you ready?"

I nod slowly and fidget with the sides of my dress as my heartbeat lurches from my chest. Heat floods my cheeks with embarrassment that he might not like what I am wearing, given we have not seen each other dressed up since our time in Axidoria.

I try not to let my heart speak for me, biting my tongue in hopes of not saying anything stupid.

Dorit steps away and opens the door slightly, whispering something on the other side before she vanishes down the hall.

Inch by inch, the doorway fills with Jerrick's frame.

I shouldn't have looked because—fuck.

He is immaculate.

I scan him head to toe, noticing a new pair of boots, dark hues of red woven into his vest and trousers, drawing my gaze to his mask and black crown. His crown is like mine, simple and coordinated for tonight's event.

But his mask, Deities, I wish it wasn't hiding his scar. It is one of my favorite features.

When our blue eyes meet, I beam, my worries and concerns dissipating.

His jaw slackens, no words spoken between us. He relaxes as a tender smile lights up his entire face, emphasizing his dimple and making my knees weak.

Jerrick gracefully lowers into a formal bow, extending his hand.

I stare before taking it, and I am caught off guard when he leans in.

His lips hover inches from mine, but then they drift to the side. He kisses my cheek, and I shiver. Jerrick takes my hand and pulls it to his lips.

"There are no words, My Queen," he purrs against my skin.

Knots form in my stomach from the lull of his utterance and his kiss blooming heat along my skin.

He stares intently, and I gulp. "No words?"

"There are no words to describe you. None will ever suffice for your divinity."

The compliment sends my heart skipping as he loops my hand over his arm. I'm not sure there are any words I could offer him, either. He himself is a deity and exalting to behold.

Jerrick runs his hand in those small circles around mine, immediately calming and soothing me. I smile, and he breathes again, shaking his head and brushing a strand away from his face.

"I wish there was a word that could define everything I see and admire in you, Frostbite."

I shy away from his words, hiding the heat of my cheeks and the desire blooming in my core. "Th-Thank you, Jer," I say.

His compliments are more than I deserve. He leans in flirtatiously, turning my gaze back to his, and winks.

"Don't worry, I know I look great, too."

I scoff at his ego.

He chuckles, and I can't help but join in as he guides us from my chambers, well on our way to attending our first festivity together as husband and wife.